Asphalt Pyre
by paynesgrey
Summary: Mac would like to remember Cassidy differently. Each day she mourns him at the spot where he fell. Dick remembers Cassidy too, driving by that memorable spot. They know that they both mourn him, but can they mourn Cassidy together? Season 2 spoilers.


Asphalt Pyre

Mac doesn't much remember the bad Cassidy. Actually, she tries _not_ to remember him – she'd like to convince herself that he never existed. She'd like to believe that Cassidy began the day she met him and ended the day before that fateful night, the night that played her brain the fool.

Mac mourns him, the good Cassidy, but she does it all by herself. She lights candles, staring at the flames and letting her mind warm to their comforting hue.

She smiles and wonders that maybe good-Cassidy just accidentally slipped.

--

It took Mac weeks before she could bring herself to visit Cassidy's concrete grave. She looks up the building where he jumped, blinded by the gray sky brightened from a hidden sun. Licking her lips and swallowing the buildup in her throat, she feels resolve.

_Her_ Cassidy would have never done something like that.

She lights a candle and sets it on the ground. The wind plays with the flame. Dirt and debris from the ground extinguishes it. With exasperated breath, she sets it aflame again and blocks it from the stark breeze.

She wonders if good-Cassidy is with her now, and she smiles.

--

Dick feels like a ghost sometimes. It was easy; no one much notices him anyway, and tragedy follows him like a cloud.

He feels grounded, redundant; as he's tied to the spot were his brother died. He tells his driver every morning to take him 'that place'.

The car circles and circles, but only on the third or fourth lap can Dick bring himself to look out the window. Only until he's ready can he look at the tall unfeeling building where his brother met his untimely end.

He clears his throat and swallows. His eyes mist as he sees the gray sky and partially bare sidewalk as people scurry by, unknowing and uncaring.

Dick punches the seat in front of him, and his throat lets loose a desperate cry.

He can't believe no one would bring flowers for his brother. He aches that no one bothers to remember.

--

On a day like any other day, Dick has the car brought around to that same building, expecting a normal day of choked throats and slashed limousine seats. He expects anger and tears.

But today is different. Today, someone is standing upon the grave.

At first, Dick is appalled that someone would wait for whatever petty reason on last spot his brother had been bound to the earth.

He thinks this person – this obstruction – is trampling a place of peace, a bed of mourning not meant to be disturbed. Dick tells the driver to stop, ready to punch this obstruction away.

Then he sees her and freezes.

He's stunned, and then he becomes sick.

He never liked her – never wanted her anywhere near his brother. She was too _wrong_, and he wanted his brother to be with someone who was right. But she was the only one who would have him – she was the sanity amidst Cassidy's insanity, and Dick wasn't sure he liked that. Dick didn't want some girl to be above him in Cassidy's life. He was Cassidy's _brother_.

But having to acknowledge 'that girl' frightens him; it's like he just has to accept her.

They share one person in common after all.

--

Mac sees him, and the flame on her candle moves erratically. She doesn't know how to feel, what to think, or how to react. The limo glides slowly past her spot. The windows are dark, but she knows he sees her too.

She turns her gaze away to the candle and pushes away the uneasy feeling in her stomach.

As the limo leaves, the candle burns out and Mac begins to cry.

She has to mourn Cassidy alone after all.

--

The next day, Mac returns and so does the limo. She watches it circle around her several times, and soon, she starts to block it out, concentrating on her mourning and watching the flame of her candle burn down to the bottom.

She has brought flowers today too – white lilies from a corner store just down the street. She sets the flowers down next to the candle; the limo makes a turn around the corner and slows.

Mac knows he's watching her closely now. She lights another candle and breathes hard.

She hates that she's the only one who brings flowers to this memorable place.

--

With her last candle burnt out, Mac prepares to leave, the sun setting in the evening sky. She is prepared to come back again, seeing his limo circle around her as she mourns.

She feels she's rather gotten used to Dick's limo circling her every day. Mac wonders if it's an indication that her mourning is almost over.

She leaves the candle and flowers on the ground, glancing at them quickly before she picks up her bag. The building becomes lonelier again as she steps away.

With a light step, Mac freezes. A car door opens, and the sound rings in her ears. She breathes a worried breath. She knows what this means. She just can't believe it.

Turning around slowly, she sees Dick exit his illegally parked limo. He refuses to look at her, and his face looks forward mimicking stone. He says nothing to her; she could rightfully not exist at all to him, and Mac feels that's just as well.

However, she watches him with interest, her eyes following his movements as he puts his hands in his pocket. Her mouth gapes open and her eyes light up. Pulling out a fresh candle, he bends down and lights it over her old one, keeping the moment alive.

She turns around, and as he's bending his back straight again, he makes eye contact with her for a small moment – a moment that brings her almost to tears.

Settling his back against the concrete building, he takes his gaze from her and looks forward. He stands still, mourning in silence. Bravely, Mac stands with him, her back against the building as well.

Quietly, they stand together with only a fresh warm candle between them.

The wind dies down, and the evening air becomes warm.

At least for once, Mac and Dick do not have remember Cassidy all on their own.


End file.
